


press f to pay respects

by hypophrenia



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Deviates From Canon, F/M, Spoilers, everything abt this is sad actually, its so lowkey and sad and pathetic im sorry, the romance tag is there bc i promised my friend but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 19:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypophrenia/pseuds/hypophrenia
Summary: The King of Mages was a poetic masterpiece, built of careful wit and breathtaking imagery.But she was Gudako, 19,and she never fucking learned how to read.





	press f to pay respects

**Author's Note:**

> [gudako voice] fingers in his ass fingers in his ass merlin he likes big fingers in his ass
> 
> super self indulgent ya girl is the #1 roman fucker around please love me back!! SPOILERS for solomon from here on out fellas

Ever since Fuyuki and Olga Marie’s untimely death, Gudako felt something off settling in. It began as an itch, at first, then grew into something more persistent, nagging and pushing for recognition.

She couldn’t place that feeling exactly until North America. It happened like this: she saw a fluffy bundle of white-hair, a shit-eating grin, and then she, without thinking, punched the mystery man in the face.

For a moment all noise was suspended save for the sickly smack of fist against skin. And Gudako felt that same misplaced, two-inches-to-the-left furniture kind of feeling, drowning out any and all thoughts. She could almost feel her fist passing through the man’s face, and somehow it made sense.

No one knew how to react, then, until Mashu promptly shut down and asked, not-quite-yelling, what the _fuck_ she just did.

“It just be like that sometimes,” Gudako confidently said, and nodded wisely. “Yeah, it really do.”

“Senpai!” Her normally calm voice was a misshapen shreech. “You don’t just punch—who even is—” 

Then, Mashu’s eyes traveled to the stoic beefy monster hunk, hovering like a solid muscular wall of delectable death wishes, and Gudako could see corporeal death flitter through Mashu’s irises. 

“Well,” Gudako had continued, nonchalant as could be, “in my defense, he deserves it. He looks like he tortures little girls for fun and even orchestrated an entire tragedy for one.”

In an alternate universe, she would’ve watched the shit out of Fate/whatever. And she would’ve taken to anime forums like a plague, boasting about power levels and how Gilgamesh sucked ass.

She didn’t, not in this world. Didn’t stop her from fixing the smug bastard with a lofty glare that could chill his actual body all the way in Rapunzel’s tower.

Something unknown passed through his smile, though he didn’t so much as twitch in response. “As much as I’d love to catch up—”

“Gotta save the world, right, right, yeah.” Saving the _world_. What was she, an anime protagonist? 

“Well, it’s good you understand.” The smug bastard was at least good at imitating her lofty apathy, at least, though in a dreamier, floatier, less bitchy and more bastard-y way. “Let’s resolve this first, no?”

He had left right after, anyways. Not that it deterred Gudako. She knew, in the same way she knew he was Merlin and that Dr. Roman was not all he seemed, she’d see him again, despite how much she didn’t want to.

Camelot passed, soon as it arrived. She punched Gawain in the face this time.

Babylonia was, by all means, a heartbreaker. But also a huge boost in writing, not to mention the absolute tsundere coolness that was King Gilgamesh, Ereshkigal, and Ishtar. 

She almost slugged Kingu, but caught the disease of emotions and backed off, but not before absolutely slaying the first hostile Lahmu she came across. The Plugsuit mystic code worked wonders on her own physical damage too.

Not to mention Merlin made his thotty, bastardous return. Multiple times she had made the petition to put down a useless magus of flowers, but was vehemently vetoed by her own traitorous servants, who had grown too used to buffs and “the story of the king.”

They were bastards too. She had caught Merlin during a patrol, dragged him aside, and demanded the legal right to disassemble him and sell his organs to charity. He only smiled in his smug way, and made conversation where there was none.

“So, why do you hate me so much?” She had to actually think about that one. And maybe she was feeling just a bit off guard, just a bit weak, because she had answered with more honesty than she should’ve.

“I don’t hate you. You just feel wrong, in every way. You’re a Grand Caster, aren’t you? Put the pieces together yourself.”

_You’re half incubus, so capable of manipulation and hurting others for the sake of a story woven by humanity. You’ll hurt me one day, won’t you?_

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” His voice was light, almost as dreamlike as his charisma. “You’re the one saving history, aren’t you? I’m free for you to use, so long as you’re putting everything back into its place. Is there anything I can do for you now, then?”

 _You can’t do anything about Roman or Fou, can you?_ “Nope. There’s nothing I need.”

“Nothing at all? You didn’t strike me as so content.”

She scoffed. “Try suspicious. I trust you as far as I can throw you.”

Merlin had laughed quietly, gently, perfect enough to be a pretty act, and then Gudako had felt again such a strong sense of alienation it wrestled her soul from her body.

Was he even capable of feeling humor? And, not wanting to know, she left without another word.

The world moved on, continued without a shred of mercy for a poor protagonist. And in the process of living and dying through the absolute rollercoaster that was ancient Mesopotamia, she had forgotten about the itchy feeling until she set foot in Chaldea again.

A final singularity, words that tore the words _deja vu_ right from her mouth and onto the floor in a sad, crumpled heap. 

This world wasn’t for the King of Mages. Holding that anger tightly, she dropped three saint quartz onto the summoning circle before Chaldea collided with that final destination, and watched Merlin appear in all his shit-eating glory.

“You easy cheapskate. Only three?”

“Only for you,” he replied, no pre-thought out lines to repeat. Then, as an afterthought, “let’s not waste this second chance, then.”

“No shit. I didn’t need you to tell me.” Despite that, she turned and left, footsteps faster than normal.

No, a second chance really couldn’t be passed up on.

Solomon, or rather, his corpse, was in pretty awful shape, in her opinion. He, it, whatever a remote-controlled corpse could be called, looked absolutely demonic and not as gentle and sweet as Gudako’s memories claimed Solomon was.

Her memories didn’t provide much, really. Just flashes and words and an immovable sense of regret and sorrow that had become etched into her bones by late Babylonia. Tiamat had seemed infinitely less terrifying when she held in her heart a different fear of a future unstoppable. 

Tiamat had killed no one of her team. Babylonia had been full of hope, even when Siduri left and Kingu snuffed out his life. But the temple of spinning time, the battlegrounds for what remained of humanity held a different weight, a somber, quiet one that didn’t quite match Tiamat’s otherworldly song and the thought of new history rising from the ashes of a battered city.

She had remained blank in mind upon reaching the final boss battle, unable to conjure up solid thought. She saw her beloved doctor shift into a familiar, king-like form, and saw flecks of light breaking off his body in the recesses of memories that didn’t belong to the her of that life.

And she hadn’t moved until Merlin raised his thotty, bastard staff and she felt strength course into her body, pure adrenaline pumping up every muscle she could flex.

So with a fierce cry resembling a cat drenched in lukewarm bathwater, Gudako ran and gripped his neck ( _Goetia, Beast I_ ) and ragdolled the demon god that had been the root of another her’s lifelong melancholy. And suddenly it wasn’t just Merlin who buffed her using what should’ve been muscle juice for servants only, but every single person who had made it along with her.

“Sorry,” she said, not sorry. And then, with a teensy bit of thought, she added just a bit more. “It’s nothing personnel, kid.”

“Person...al...not...” 

“I know what I fucking said,” Gudako hissed, flinging Goetia away. He crashed into a ground, forming a crater with his limp body—then all the sins of humanity, or whatever edgy name he carried, had perished. 

Afterwards, which Gudako would not remember, she had apparently ran up to Mashu and headbutted her kouhai so hard she had the demi-human part of her knocked out and she became human. It was a lot more complicated, but she didn’t have the brainpower to actually understand it.

And then she had slung her arm around Merlin’s shoulder, called him a brave bitch, and passed out.

The celebration afterwards had been teary, albeit many servants started giving her a wider berth after her stunt with Goetia. Awkward silences had been common after hesitant comments of, “so, I guess we weren’t necessary for defeating…?”

Later, Gudako consumed an entire cake herself, one arm permanently hooked around Roman’s, as if to confirm he was still there. Fou was in Mashu’s arms, sapient and bristling at Merlin, but still very much alive and somewhat content.

When four am rolled around, Gudako decided it was prime time to pass out in her room with a killer headache from all the shit she had done earlier. Upon entering her empty little room, she found a bastardous visitor waiting inside, sitting on _her_ bed.

“What do you think,” Merlin asked, as she slipped into shorts and a t-shirt without even batting an eye, “are you falling for me yet?” No doubt asking about his brilliant move getting her moving at first. She supposed she owed him a bit for that.

“Fujimaru Ritsuka doesn’t fall in love,” she told him, face completely blank. “But for now I’m Gudako and I just choked the King of Demons to death. I’ll think about it.”

Then she closed her eyes and passed out.

\---

Fujimaru Ritsuka wakes up on the first of January, head stuffy and pounding. She thinks for a bit, tries to gather her thoughts, and gives up.

When she’s done putting on her uniform and pulling on her tights, she lies back down and lets her thoughts wander to a half remembered dream.

She thinks of Merlin, and frowns. 

She never pulled him the first place. Why would she dream of him?

Well, it doesn’t matter. She needs to clean up the mess left behind; the empty space left behind by Roman won’t fill itself.


End file.
